Oddball
by nbmoonbeam
Summary: Harry is left at an orphanage only to be adopted by Voldemort. Just when he is finally feeling confident Harry meets someone who changes his perspective on life. Spoilers for all books.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One: Legal Beginnings**

In the dead of the night, a baby cried for his mother. Lily Potter never heard her son's cries, nor did her husband, James Potter. They were dead. The baby, Harry, was left on his own on the front steps of his only living relatives.

Petunia Dursley opened the door to get the paper and saw a baby on the ground. She was about to call for her husband, Vernon Dursley, but closed her mouth thoughtfully instead. She hurried into the house, grabbed her keys, and rushed out the door again. She knew exactly who this was. Her nephew, Harry. As a muggle with a witch for a sister and an utter hatred for the magical world, she had no problems with dumping the boy at an orphanage.

She drove 4 hours to an orphanage, grabbed Harry roughly and dropped him on the doorstep without even ringing the bell. The cook, Mrs. June, would find him soon enough on her way to work. The baby didn't even notice when Petunia drove away.

* * *

Lord Voldemort smiled at the woman who answered the door. A muggle. This would only be all too easy. He had placed a tracking charm on the boy. It amused him greatly that everyone thought him dead. No. He was only in hiding. Besides why would he die when his son needed him? Son. Hmmm. That sounded strange in his mind. Yes, the idea was brilliant. Waiting until the boy was grown. Waiting to turn Dumbledore's plans inside out. They probably hadn't even noticed that young Harry was missing, and with luck they never would, but Lord Voldemort told himself that he didn't need luck. No. None was needed when you had talent. "Yes? Can I help you sir?" Lord Voldemort resisted the idea of simply taking the boy. But no. This had to be completely legal. He smirked as he replied, "Yes, actually. I am here to adopt a boy that I recently became aware of." "Wonderful. Mr….?" "Riddle" he replied with amusement. Apparently, his muggle father was good for something after all. In no time Harry James Potter became Roble Ryan Riddle.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** Sadly I do not own the HP world….

Chapter 2

"You can surely do better than that Prince." Roble groaned as he rolled to his feet. Mumbling under his breath about idiot crazy black haired women. Turning his head at just the right moment to avoid being hit and probably receiving a black eye for his not paying attention.

Reaching for the knife sheaf attached to his upper thigh, Roble thought to himself that he could play dirty as well. Drawing the blade in a movement so refined after many years of practicing that exact move. The throw was dead on and would have caused dear Bella to go down screaming if only she had not moved. Thus landing the blade in the wood wall behind her. Grunting in frustration, Roble ducked under the sickly orange spell speeding his way. Deciding to end this exercise, if it could be called that, Roble lunged toward his opponent's feet in a spectacular tackle that succeeded in downing the witch.

A slow mocking clapping made Roble straighten abruptly and turn to face the intruder.

"Father," he greeted. "Roble. You were late and I was concerned over what may have kept you. I know that Bella here can sometimes be….a tad ….wanting in manners."

"We only got carried away, My Lord," interjected a sallow looking Bellatrix Black.

Her appearance reminding Roble of the traitorous snake Severus Snape.

Of course his father knew of this betrayal. How could he not?

With a loyal son and heir almost ready to take his place in leading his followers, Voldemort was well off for his age. Roble was a perfectly crafted tool, sometimes more. All of the Gryffindorish qualities had been squashed out at a young enough age as to not cause any lasting damage.

"Come," Lord Voldemort commanded of Roble. Without any complaints Roble went.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** Sadly I do not own the HP world….

**Authors note: **Sooo….. I was wondering if anyone had a preference as too longer chapters with a longer time between updates or shorter chapters with a shorter time.

Chapter 3

The face residing on his fathers head was an interesting combination of pride, excitement, and a malicious intent. This look bringing an image of a child about to steel his brother's sweets came to Roble's mind. Maybe Roble would finally find out what it was that had had his father on edge for the past week.

As they descended further into the labyrinth of a maze that was their lair, a damp and numbing cold swept into Roble's heart. A feeling so dark that it was like nothing good would ever happen again.

"Dementors, father?" he asked.

The only response was the smirk that grew on his fathers face. Whatever could the beasts be good for? The only reason Roble could think of was that a high priority prisoner was being held. And if that was true, than who was the poor soul about to feel his fathers wrath?

The unanswered but heard questions became unnecessary as they rounded a corner and caught sight of a man, if it could be called that anymore.

The thing was curled in a ball as if to escape from his tormentors. The smell of fear being secreted was overwhelming in its stench. The pungent odor of rotten eggs making Roble's eyes water.

The man did not make a sound when Roble nudged him with his foot. Only roll over and flop onto his back like an overturned rolly polly. Eyes as dark as coal opened slowly and blinked at the painfully bright light. The mouth breaking its enclosing crust in order to rasp out, "Harry?"

Who was this man to call him by that name? A name that was never meant to be associated with him. The traitors to magic had named him that the day he was born. The orphanage had never had a name for him. Roble was simply called "that boy" by the nurses. Roble had many names but only one face.

The gaunt looking man suddenly reached out for Roble and the world spun as Lord Voldemort tried to grasp Roble's robes. Feeling the satin slip through his fingers as the heir to the dark throne was wrenched away.

A dizzying moment passed before Roble and his kidnapper landed in a tangle of limbs. The once almost dead man looking as lively as the day he was born. Quickly pinning the smaller body down beneath his own, Sirius Black clawed through the boys pockets searching for an ordinary wand resembling a stick one could find in any sort of wooded area. A stunning spell was launched from nearby their landing site and Roble was locked in the position he was in.


	4. Captured for lack of constant vigilance

**disclaimer: The Hp world is not mine.**

**AN: sorry for such a long wait but as a band geek my time basically doesn't exist... R&r please!  
**

* * *

The startling feel of another portkey was all Roble could concentrate on before he landed in a tangle of limbs with Sirius Black before he ironically_ blacked_ out.

His next moment of lucidity came a while later. "Crap," Roble whispered to himself. How stupid was he to have been captured by the enemy. And whose job was it anyways to insure that prisoners had nothing dangerous on them? As soon as Roble found out who they were he vowed a death to them that would never end.

"I think he's awake," an annoyingly high pitched voice attempted to whisper.

"_Shh! _If mom finds out we were in here we'll be dead," whined another more male like voice. "Whatever Ronald. As if you were good at keeping secrets anyways with the way your face turns red every time you so much as think about lying to Mum," Ginevra Weasley said harshly.

"Don't worry sister dear,"

"We know just how to fix that problem in ickle Ronneikins," two more strikingly similar vices chimed in.

And with that footsteps sounded and the room was silent once more excluding the imaginary sound of Roble's mind whirring fast to understand all that was happening. So, he thought to himself, I'm hidden away at the Orders headquarters judging by the irritatingly familiar voices of Weasley spawn.

* * *

A while later the door opened on a plump looking woman, Molly Weasley, carrying a tray of lunch items. "Hungry dearie? Never mind, don't answer that." She chuckled. "If I know children like I ought to then you must be starving. Eat up now mister." "You'll need your strength if anything comes from the conversation downstairs," she seemed to think out loud to herself.

"Molly!" barked a tall man from behind her.

"Sorry dear, must have said too much," she apologetically replied to him before giving Roble a sad look and turning to leave.


End file.
